missing,mother,dectective; a tryptich

1.Missing

pressure drop
i want to leave it all behind
no-one will miss me,
unknown hands nade me feel dirty,
bleak house,like the raw
nerve in a lightbulb,
Edvard Munchs scream
dirty hands,dirty places,
Jesus never helped.
I could lose myself in the city,
darkness haunts my soul,
i'll go on the early train.
vanishing point, teethmarks
still on my flesh
dreams crash like broken angels

2. Mother

'she wasn't in her room
when i brought her morning tea,
the note i could see
read "forget you had a daughter"
how could i put aside a part of me?
carrying her close, now empty.
passport,mobile,toycat gone,
her last ciggarrette smoke
hanging in the air
like a thin blue shroud.
I wait until i hear the owl
and our cat slinks in like a
velvet glove. Then I give
details to anonymous police.

3. Detective

'we found what was her
dress pulled over her head
tracing her trail,through kings cross
Kentish town, now we have to
find a murderer with a thick
strangling belt, lowlife.
Her hands so smooth and delicate
fought, her dead eyes like glass marbles
teenage,tabloid, tragedy.
i'll go see the mother now.